Variety
by scorchedtrees
Summary: AU: It takes him eleven different types of flowers to ask her out. Rivetra.


_(pink carnations & white lilies)_

Petra knows her customers pretty well, so whenever unfamiliar people walk into her shop, she naturally assumes they are visitors or new to town. There is nothing different about this man—he seems unfriendlier than most, his lips pressed in a displeased slant and his gaze focused on the screen of his phone—until he hands her a printout of Erwin Smith's online order.

"I'm picking up for him," he explains. Petra stares down at the slightly crumpled paper in her hands, confirming that it is indeed what she emailed Erwin Smith last night, and nods.

"I'll be right back."

She prepared his bouquet just half an hour earlier, pink carnations and white lilies wreathed in rose-colored ribbons. He wanted something to give to his friend whose wife had just given birth to a baby girl. She expected him to come himself, not send a surly acquaintance, but she supposes the man waiting by the counter will do.

Petra carries the bouquet back out, clearing her throat when he doesn't notice her presence. He finally looks at her, and for a second their eyes meet. His widen a fraction before he stares down at his phone again.

"Thanks," he says, or at least she assumes that's what he says. The syllable is too quiet for her ears to pick up. Then he seems to realize that she is waiting for him to take the bouquet, and with another uttered word (this one sounds less pleasant) he reaches over the counter and accepts the bundle of flowers, taking care to avoid her hands.

She watches him leave the shop, wondering why she's never seen him before and if he'll be back.

* * *

><p><em>(yellow chrysanthemums, purple asters, sun<em>_flowers)_

He does return—the next day, actually. She's sorting coins in the cash register when the bell above the door tinkles and Erwin Smith's friend from yesterday walks in.

"Hi, can I help you?" He's meeting her gaze this time, she notes. At least for the moment—he looks away again, his eyes flickering to the floor. Shy, perhaps.

"I'm… looking for something for my sister," he says. "She just graduated uni." She must look confused—it's only April—because he corrects himself. "I mean, she's going to graduate."

He has a nice voice; it was hard to tell yesterday when he barely spoke at all. Petra beams, happy that his first visit to her flower shop prompted a second.

"Sure, do you want suggestions?"

"Uh… okay."

She launches into a quick overview of popular congratulations bouquets, mentioning the various occasions people usually purchase them for. She speaks for half a minute before noticing the puzzled crease in his brow.

"… You haven't heard of most of these flowers, have you?" When he shakes his head, she bites her lower lip to contain a smirk. "Would you like me to pick for you?"

"Yeah."

He ends up with an arrangement of brightly-colored flowers set around a smiley face balloon, a card tied to the bouquet with a note in it. "Congratulations –Levi" it reads in his messy scrawl.

"That's it?" she can't help asking as she plucks his credit card from his fingers to swipe. His last name is Ackerman; his card expires in two years and three months. "I mean, I can get you a 'congratulations' balloon if you want and you can write a different note."

"She won't care," he says. He leans forward and gives the flowers in his arms an experimental sniff, and it suddenly occurs to her that buying flowers a month in advance makes no sense.

She watches him go, wondering how old he is and if the bouquet really is for his sister.

* * *

><p><em>(violet gladiolus &amp; blue hydrangeas)<em>

There's something curious that always seems to happen: Petra can go through her entire life without hearing about something, and then all of a sudden it is everywhere. One day last year Erd mentioned Luke Skywalker to her in a conversation, and by the next week she heard the same name repeated four times by various people.

Which is why she isn't really too surprised when the next day, shortly after lunch, the door to the shop opens and Levi Ackerman walks in.

"Hey!" As the saying goes, third time's the charm—if customers buy something from her more than twice in a short span of time, she starts to consider them regulars, and she's always more chatty with the regulars. "How are you?"

He blinks at her as if not registering her words, then straightens. "I'm good…?"

The way he trails off makes her think he must want her name. "You know it," she says. At his blank stare, she prompts, "The name of the shop?"

His mouth opens, then closes. "You're Petra?"

"Yeah. I started this shop myself five years ago." She props her hands on her hips and smiles at the memory—it was a lot of hard work, but completely worth it. "It took a while, but now I've really gotten into the business. You can order online, you know, and have bouquets and gift baskets delivered. You don't always have to come in."

He shrugs and slides his hands into his pockets, pulling out a sheet of paper and unfolding it. His fingers are slim, knuckles slightly bruised, his motions quick and precise. She shakes her head when she catches herself staring.

The paper is just a product page from her website, printed in black and white: _condolences_ it reads across the top. It's one of the get-well-soon bouquets, clusters of hydrangeas adorning stalks of gladiolus.

Looking at it, she realizes if he was browsing her website then he totally could have just ordered from it too. "You know, if you live nearby we deliver for free."

She watches red creep up his neck as he nods, and she can't help wondering if he already knew that but decided to visit anyway.

* * *

><p><em>(red lisianthus, orange hyacinths, alstroemeria)<em>

None of her customers have come more than three days in a row, so Levi (as she's taken to calling him in her head, though he hasn't formally introduced himself) breaks the record by walking in just before she's about to go on lunch break the next day.

"Can I see a catalog?" is the first thing he says. He's not that great with starting and ending conversations, she's noticed, but she doesn't really mind—it's interesting. She finds him interesting, even though he always seems a bit fidgety and unwilling to smile back at her.

"Sure thing."

She hands him one and he leans against the counter, flipping through it idly. She checks her computer for orders later that day and thinks she ought to start preparing one as she waits for him to make a decision, maybe trim the stems on a few flowers some customers—another new one included—will be picking up later, but she finds herself studying him instead. He looks stern at first glance, but he's actually surprisingly handsome: his features are quite symmetrical, his eyebrows fine, his lips full, and his nose—it isn't fair; such a nose is wasted on a man.

She's staring again. Petra tears her gaze away and turns back to her flowers.

A minute ticks by, then two, then five. Before she can start to wonder if he's just going to stand there all day, her stomach rumbles quite audibly. Most people would pretend not to hear, but not him, apparently. "There's a sandwich place that just opened down the street," he says. "If you want…" He pauses, as if realizing his faux pas in acknowledging it, but continues anyway. "… you could go there for lunch," he finishes.

"Thanks," she says, trying to sound casual. She can feel herself start to blush anyway and she silently curses herself for being stupid. She's usually not so easily embarrassed.

He clears his throat. "Um… I'll take this friendship bouquet thing."

She watches him pay, signing the receipt with a quick fluorish of the pen, and she wonders if he was about to say something else and if he likes sandwiches.

* * *

><p><em>(cyclamens)<em>

When he enters her shop for the sixth consecutive day, she has to ask.

"Do you actually need all these flowers?"

That makes him stop in his tracks. Petra wishes she could take the words back, but at the same time she really wants to know. She tries to give him a reassuring smile, and it could be her imagination but his eyes seem to soften a tad.

"Not really?" He makes his answer sound like a question.

"So you're here because…?"

He somehow manages to look both irritated and embarrassed. He mutters something under his breath that she can't quite make out, but it could be "you know why."

Petra props her elbows on the counter, unable to hide a grin. "Enlighten me."

He does not respond right away, scratching the back of his neck and staring at the floor like he wants it to open up and swallow him whole. She gives him time, fiddling with the decorations on display and tapping her fingers against the cash register, but she keeps her eyes on him and in the end he mutters under his breath, "Oh, what the hell."

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulls out a single pinkish-purple flower. "I'm shit at this so… here."

The way he hands it to her reminds her of a little boy handing a Valentine's card to a girl he likes. She takes the flower gently, her grin blossoming when their fingers brush and he gives a start.

"I know your name but you've never introduced yourself."

"I'm Levi," he says quickly.

"Levi," she says.

"Yeah?"

"This is a lovely flower and if it's your way of asking me out, I totally accept, but just for future reference, cyclamens usually symbolize departure—something you'd give a friend who's moving away or retiring. Or something you'd bring to a funeral."

She almost feels bad for saying it, but his expression is too hilarious for her to regret it—like he wants to kill someone and melt into the floor all at once. "Someone else ordered for me because I don't know anything about this stuff," he explains, his voice calm though his cheeks are nearly the same color as the flower she is holding.

Petra inspects the flower more closely and this time she has to press a hand to her mouth to hold in a giggle. "Levi?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you… buy me a flower from my own shop?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: so 1. it was Hanji who totally did that on purpose 2. WHAT IS PROGRESSION 3. I don't know a thing about flowers in case that wasn't clear aldfkslasdf sorry and 4. this drabble can be considered part of the same AU, maybe a couple of months (or years lol) down the line: __suirenshi dot tumblr dot com/post/86061156824/_


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